Car Review: 2007 BMW Alpina B7

2007 BMW Alpina B7

PHOTO: Handout, BMW

By David Booth, Canwest News Service

Originally published: August 10, 2011

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You know how this goes.

You’re playing poker with your buds –guy’s night out. You’re into the second bottle of Jack Black, the third round of Cubans and have already done the full gamut of the traditional male laments — wife doesn’t understand you, kids don’t appreciate you and the government continues to suck at your wallet like a Beverly Hills divorce lawyer trying to fleece some hapless former dot.commer. Time to get serious.

“You know what really frosts my butt?” you posit.

“What?” comes the rejoinder, which, as depicted in all romantic comedies, is always done in unison because, as all women know, we men never actually think but simply respond by rote.

“I’m late for a meeting, blasting up the 400 in my M5/AMG/911 Turbo, tapped out at 302 kilometres an hour, knowing that if I just had three more klicks under my foot I could make it to Lake Rosseau to close that $28-million condo deal. But I’ve already got the spoiler thingie happening, the engine’s tuned and the suspension’s been lowered to cheat the wind. It’s those freakin’ valve stems, I tell ya, sticking out of the wheel creating aerodynamic resistance. They’re holding me back. If it weren’t for them, man, we’d be drinking Dom right now and I’d have a 6% commish in the Antilles that the wife doesn’t know about.”

“Damned valve stems!” comes the refrain, again in unison, everyone’s head bobbing in perfect synchronicity.

Except for the new guy, substituting for Bert who’s been having cash-flow problems. Quiet, hasn’t lit up a single Havana and has barely touched his drink. Has that shiny new blue BMW 7 Series outside with the big deck spoiler, wide wheels and, hey, wait a minute, where are the valve stems?

Yesireebob, the latest in one-upping your fellow dental surgeon is the 2007 BMW Alpina B7, complete with, among other things, big rims with no valve stems. Or, at least, any you can see. In fact, Alpina has simply taken them from the outer rim and hidden them behind the wheel centres. These are lockable, by the way, not because some nefarious miscreant would want to futz with the Michelin Pilot’s optimum 32 psi inflation but because the wheel centre also hides the lug nuts and some punk will most certainly want to liberate these mondo expensive wheels.

So, this fancy Bimmer has a nifty set of wheels with craftily hidden valve stems. But what is Alpina and what else is special about the B7?

Well, Alpina is to BMW what AMG used to be to Mercedes-Benz before the latter purchased the tiny tuning firm. The company has been fettling BMWs since 1961 when it engineered a dual Weber carburetor conversion for BMW’s then new 1500. Ever since, Alpina has had a close relationship with the parent company, and its products can be obtained through the distributor as BMW Canada is doing with the B7, complete with all the standard BMW warranties.

As to what else is special about this car, that’s easy. There’s a supercharger under the hood atop the normally powerful but unassuming BMW engine. That means the 4.4-litre V8 pumps out a very creditable 500 horsepower and a whopping 516 pound-feet of torque.

As with most supercharged engines, all that oomph is available virtually any time the engine is spinning. Peak horsepower is at a relatively low 5,500 rpm and throttle response is superlative from idle speed all the way to 6,000 rpm. No fuss, no muss, no waiting — just press down firmly with the right foot. Repeat as necessary.

All this low-end torque makes the blown Valvetronic 4.4L feel suspiciously like an engine from arch-rival AMG, itself extremely fond of bolting superchargers to unsuspecting V8s. But the BMW feels more sophisticated. Where boosted AMGs always quake under the strain of producing so much power at such low rpm, the Alpina version barely gives a shudder as it surges forward. It’s a magnificent engine, even if it is the antithesis of most high-revving, high-performance BMW engines, best epitomized by the M5’s equally powerful but faster-turning M5. For the record, BMW says the B7 is the quickest 7 Series ever, taking just 4.9 seconds to accelerate to 100 kilometres an hour.

Just as impressive is the B7’s handling. Those giant — 285/30R21 rear and 245/35R21 front — Michelins provide phenomenal grip, and Alpina’s rejigging of BMW’s already superlative suspension all but eliminates roll no matter how fast you plaster the off-ramp.

Surprisingly, the effect of those lowprofile tires is more heard than felt. The 7’s frame is incredibly rigid and the rough-riding tires don’t upset it as much as you would imagine. Your great aunt might be discomfited while driving over Toronto’s potholed streets, but, at highway speeds, the 7’s ride is largely unaffected.

Inside, one finds a more familiar 7 Series. There are detail changes such as unique wood and floor mats and a customized steering wheel based on a 5 Series item. My only complaint is that every modified component carries Alpina’s coat of arms — the wood trim, the steering wheel and even the floor mats. It’s a little over the top. Even those cretins who attach “M” badges to otherwise stock BMWs wouldn’t overdo it to this degree.

Non-believers will look at all those logos and the trick, disappearing valve stems and see the answer to a question nobody asked. Others, fewer in number, will look at the same wheels and see the art of engineering at its finest. The latter will find the B7’s $152,000 price tag far more palatable than the former.